


The Growing Flame

by mioneravenclaw



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 11:20:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mioneravenclaw/pseuds/mioneravenclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minerva always saw a little of herself in the Gryffindor who found the greatest pleasures in learning. So when Hermione returns to Hogwarts after the war to complete her education , how will their relationship change? Rated M for later scenes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Minerva pushed gently on the portrait door, taking care to be silent as possible. The older woman liked to check the common room in the early hours, keeping a keen eye on her cubs. Her eyes adjusted in the light, the warm glow of the common room fire a stark contrast to the eerie darkness which crept through the corridors of Hogwarts. Straight away her eyes fell on a mountain of books that a student had obviously neglected to put away. They cast a long shadow over the room from the table. Minerva walked over to the pile with a weak curiosity, picking up the nearest book and turning it over to view the cover. A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, the professor smiled. Suddenly a moan came from behind the books and the chair could be heard shifting slightly. Minerva tensed with surprise, her wand suddenly in her hand, "lumos". Miss Granger. Roles of parchment acted as a pillow for the poor girl, ink from the most recently written smudged across her cheek and forehead; the quill was still in her hand. Minerva recognised the essay as one she had set, also noticing that it exceeded her world limit with excess associated only with the Gryffindor who slept before her.

Minerva smiled at the girl who reminded her so much of herself, drawing closer to her with an outreaching arm. She shook the girl's shoulder slightly

"Miss Granger... wake up... Hermione, dear."

The girl nuzzled her face further into the crook of her arm but a final jostle seemed to catch her attention. Slowly her eyes opened, suddenly snapping so as she took in the identity of the woman before her.

"Professor!"

She sat bolt upright in her chair, sending quills and parchment flying onto the floor. Minerva's smile only widened at the sight of her most eager student.

"I think perhaps you should go to bed dear, it is late, or rather 'early' ".

Hermione's eyes fell onto the pile of work, half finished and yet still perfect. Minerva flicked her wand, the pile disappearing instantly. Hermione turned to the woman whose face still bore a warm smile, both confusion and worry apparent on the features of her face.

"All upstairs, stacked beside your bed, dear."

Miss Granger gave a sigh and nodded with understanding, slowly rising from her chair with a fixed exhaustion. As the young woman ambled clumsily up the steep staircase that lead to the dormitories Minerva wondered how many nights Hermione spent in the common room buried among her books; and how she was coping with the mountain of work she had taken on this year. She decided she would look into it, unable to avoid the niggle of worry that crept among her thoughts.

As Hermione tiptoed into the Great Hall the following morning she lowered her head in a feeble attempt to avoid detection. The sight of this made Minerva's eyebrow quirk with amusement.

"What's so funny Minerva?" Flitwick inquired with a look of excited curiosity.

"Just a student Filius, you know how it is."

Filius nodded with a hint of disappointment evident across his brow. And suddenly food appeared before them and breakfast commenced. Slowly the sea of students at the four house tables thinned, and as Hermione got up from among their fellow Gryffindors Minerva also rose from her seat. The other members of staff eyed her with a look of confusion, traditionally the staff were the last to leave, so they could socialise without the students for a while.

She made her way towards her, "Miss Granger, could I have a word?"

In all honesty she wasn't asking, and regardless of the young woman's response they would be having that word. Hermione seemed to sense this as with a quivering voice of resignation she nodded. Minerva raised her hand and indicated for Hermione to walk out the hallway. And so the pair made their way out of the Great Hall. McGonagall lead the brown hair beauty into an empty classroom and leant onto the teacher's desk, Hermione automatically taking the role of the pupil and sat at one of the student's desks at the front. Brown eyes were covered by shaking hands as the younger of the two tried to bury her face in her hands and hide from the embarrassment which enveloped her.

"Hiding from me will do you no good Miss Granger, we must talk about last night, although I doubt it was a one off instance. Am I right?"

Hermione felt like a small child caught in wrongdoing, unable to lie due to a beautiful innocence. She nodded, the movement small and sombre, and with the motion came the tears. Minerva froze... was Miss Granger crying? That wasn't her intention, not at all. She rushed forward, horrified at what she had reduced her student to. She knelt before the desk until her face was level with Hermione's, and she carefully took the girl's smooth cheek in her left hand, tilting her face upwards with her index finger.

"Look at me dear, there is no reason to cry."

And yet great sobs still heaved from her chest, shining tears lacing the dark thick lashes which framed the downward looking chocolate eyes. Clearly Minerva wasn't going to get a coherent conversion with her pupil as she thought, not that such matters usually stopped the Transfiguration Professor.

"It has become obvious to me of late... that maybe you aren't coping well at the present."

The young woman shook her head, a feeble denial which only warmed Minerva's heart further. She had bags under her eyes, tears flowed freely from her eyes and she shook from both the emotion which consumed her and the exhaustion which gripped her.

"This is an awfully lonely conversation at present, dear, and I really do think you should talk to someone. Don't make me sign you up for counselling, because I warn you that silence is the path. You are always alone, buried in a book or scribbling notes furiously. You never speak, never make eye contact with people, never smile or laugh. It isn't Hermione."

She felt awful for admonishing the poor girl, but Minerva hadn't lied, if she didn't start talking she'd be forced to notify a counsellor at St Mungo's.

"Hermione!"

The young woman tensed, startled and finally looked into the emerald depths of Minerva's eyes. Plump pink lips opened with hesitation and Minerva took the girl's hand in her own to encourage her.

"I..." Minerva nodded. "Everything is so hard. No Harry and Ron to brighten the darkness which looms which increasing frequency. Hours and hours of work which have replaced time I used to sleep during. I'm so tired that my eyes burn, each intake of breath feeling like I've raced up a flight of stairs. And yet I must continue; I have to succeed. Because every moment that isn't filled with work gives my brain time to remember all those who died, everyone we lost, every moment of fear and sadness, of thinking I could die at any moment. So maybe I should see a counsellor Professor, but I just don't have time."

During her speech the sobs had stopped, replaced with a look of irritation, or anger. This was the fiery Gryffindor whom even Minerva had a mild fear of.

"I understand how hard life can be without friends to confide in, so I propose a new, if unorthodox, friendship. Between us. We could meet every few nights and talk about your lessons, or play chess. I could give you some extra mentoring in Transfiguration if it would seal the deal. Well?"

Hermione's brow was furrowed with doubt. She spoke cautiously, with great consideration.

"I wouldn't like to be a burden to you Professor..."

Minerva frowned, regretting the words she was about to say.

"It's that or the counsellor. And forcing you there would be much more of a burden, I assure you."

Hermione sighed; Minerva had a way of forcing your hand whilst giving you a choice. And it was infuriating. She nodded tersely and rose from her chair, wrenching her hand away from her Professors. When she saw the look of hurt on Minerva's face her features softened somewhat and she felt guilty, this wasn't her fault after all. She tried a smile but it pained the muscles in her cheek. She thought she might cry again, so turned and walked towards the door.

"My office, tonight, at 8 o'clock dear."


	2. 2

Hermione stood outside her Professor's office, nervous about the events which would shortly unfold. She had changed from her boring black robes to a pair of comfortable blue jeans and a teal jumper that set of her golden brown curls perfectly. She knocked slowly, the hesitation apparent in the lack of rhythm. Minerva smiled on the other side and made her way to the door. She opened the door and looked upon her student, who had ditched her traditional school robes. She had to admit that the fitted sweater looked marvelous against her lightly tanned skin, the multi-toned brown hair glinting under the magical lamps. She was momentarily dazed by the young woman who didn't look so young in her muggle clothes.

Hermione wondered why on earth the older woman was staring at her, until her eyelids fluttered and she came back to reality.

"Sorry Miss Granger, I erm… lost myself for a second. Anyway, come in."

She moved aside for the young woman, who came into the room to find the furniture slightly different to how she remembered. A small table and two armchairs made up what was empty space before her, and Hermione sat in the one further from the door. She had only been in her Head of House's office twice before, and they hadn't exactly been social…..

"So, how would you like to spend the evening?"

Hermione was busy scanning the seemingly endless shelves which filled the office walls, she wondered how many there were, if there were any more. The books all looked old, which only excited her further, as nothing could beat the musty smell of a loved book.

"And reading isn't one of the options Miss Granger."

She frowned at the girl who was seemingly unable to peel her eyes away from the bookcase.

"Why don't we just talk…?"

Hermione looked at Minerva with a hint of disappointment present in her eyes and nodded. Minerva's brow crinkled at the young woman's reluctance to socialize. She was so different to her peers, and the older woman wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not…

"Why did you come back to Hogwarts Hermione? You seem so unhappy without Harry and Ron, so why leave them and return alone?"

Hermione sighed, as if she had been waiting for the question. She didn't hesitate in giving a reply, which made Minerva think she was about to be fed a ready-made answer.

"I thought it was essential to finish my education." Her voice was monotonous as she said this, and the words sounded rehearsed.

"But you're one of the Golden Trio," Minerva reasoned, "Surely you don't need qualifications to get a job. Your reputation for being the brains behind the defeat of Voldemort precedes you."

Hermione looked annoyed; clearly she had hoped her professor would simply take her reason for returning as truth.

"That may be true professor, but I wanted to feel as though I had earned my place in society like everyone else. I wanted to fulfill my journey through Hogwarts."

Minerva realised that Hermione wasn't going to willingly reveal the truth.

"You eat meals alone, sit alone in class, and do your homework alone in the library. You are never seen speaking to other students; you talk to staff only when you are asked a question. I think you came to Hogwarts to escape, to hide. But I have no idea why."

Hermione winced at Minerva's words like they caused her physical pain. She felt horrified that one of her most closely guarded secrets suddenly had a spotlight illuminating it. She feared what else the inept woman before her would work out and scratched at the scar Bellatrix had gifted her nervously. Even though she wore a long sleeved t-shirt, like she did every day, she was still worried it would be discovered.

"So what if I want some time away?"

Hermione's tone was cold as she spoke, the tears that welled in her eyes undetectable in her voice.

Minerva leant across the gap between them, half expecting Hermione to move away, but she didn't. She took the younger woman's hand in her own and rubbed the pad of her thumb into the back of her hand.

"What are you hiding from Hermione?"

Worry and love saturated Minerva's voice and Hermione felt her heart shatter from the pressure of emotion building in her chest. The tears started spilling from her tired brown eyes and her head hung, resting on the shoulder of the woman opposite her. Minerva wound her arms around Hermione's shoulders and pulled her closer, running a hand up and down her slender back. Minerva knew she hadn't been eating properly as her spine stood out against her skin. She rocked the young woman who continued to wail, huge sobs rippling through her body.

Slowly Hermione whimpers subsided, although she continued to cling to her Professor.

"Please talk to me Hermione. What are you hiding from?"

Hermione pulled away from Minerva, who was about to argue when the young woman looked her in the eye. Determination burned in the brown orbs. Minerva froze. The young woman reached for the hem of her sleeve, closing her eyes and pulling it up her arm. When the material uncovered the skin just below her elbow Minerva gasped, horrified at what embellished the skin there.

"Mudblood…" she whispered.

"When me, Harry and Ron were caught and taken to Malfoy Manor Bellatrix tortured me for information. I came back here because I wanted to forget everything that happened when we left. All the people that died, all the times we were inches from death ourselves. I knew that if I joined Harry and Ron in the wizarding world then every day would be a reminder. I hoped that avoiding them would stop the nightmares…"

Hermione's voice had been surprisingly steady as she spoke, which Minerva was very proud of.

"But they didn't." The older woman finished.

Hermione shook her head. Minerva reached over and took Hermione's forearm, running her thumb over the word etched in the lightly tanned skin there. She felt her own eyes fill with tears as she imagined Hermione being tortured, high pitched screams filling her ears.

"I always tried not to think about what you three were up to, because I knew it would only worry me. But it would seem I would certainly have had grounds for worry…"

She wiped her eyes, not wanting Hermione to feel pitied.

"Do the boys know?"

Silence filled the room and Minerva knew what that meant, she had not told her best friends the extent of her torture. How could she after all? Hermione had seen Harry struggle with his own problems, being tortured himself for years. How could she add to the burden her best friend carried, the burden left to him of saving the wizarding world. And then there was Ron. Well Ron simply wouldn't have understood, just like he hadn't understood the night he'd left them. Hermione simply couldn't care for Ron anymore, couldn't lean on him, because she feared him.

Minerva sighed, "of course they don't…"

The horrified Headmistress turned away from the broken woman before her. Minerva hated that Hermione had kept this a secret for so long, that she had carried the weight of her torture alone. But as much as anything she wondered what else the girl had been hiding.

"Me and some of the other teachers used to listen to PotterWatch religiously. We hoped there would be no news of you, just a mention of your continued disappearance. I used to tell them, Filius and Pomona, that you would keep the boys safe. But at what cost? "

Minerva turned back to Hermione, who looked extremely weary, like all the life was being sapped from her. The girl's shoulder's were hunched, her face buried in her thin hands. Her breathing came in big desperate gasps like she was clinging to life by a thin thread.

"You look tired dear… maybe you should go to bed. We can talk some more tomorrow, I think we've said enough for tonight"

Minerva felt guilty for reducing the usually composed teenager to this fragile form. She walked over to her, putting her arms under Hermione's armpits and heaving her upright, holding her tightly against her chest. Hermione's body was rigid and unresponsive against her own and Minerva realised that the girl had retreated into her mind, desperate for an escape. She took Hermione's hand, which hung limp by her side, and lead her out of the office.


	3. 3

The two made their way towards Gryffindor tower. When Hermione had returned she had been given her own private dormitory, due to her age and fame. At the time Minerva had thought it was the least she could do for her. As Minerva guided Hermione through the corridors of Hogwarts towards Gryffindor Tower the younger woman's hand was limp in her own and Minerva desperately wanted to turn around and give her a squeeze. Finally they reached the portrait of the fat lady. Minerva was about to bid Hermione goodnight when she remembered finding her asleep in the common room the night previously. If she left the young woman now then she had a pretty good idea she'd come back in an hour and find her sleeping on a book again. So she gave the password and then made to enter the common room.

"What're you doing?" Hermione's voice sounded fearful. "I can find my way to my bed for god's sake!" Her voice was pleading, and it only reinforced what Minerva had just thought.

"What, and find you asleep on a table using a book as a pillow again? I won't have it Miss Granger. So yes, I am going to escort you to your dormitory, and watch as you go to sleep if I have to!"

Hermione sighed. There was no point arguing with the Headmistress when she was like this. She gave a big elaborate yawn and hoped that it was sufficient evidence to make Professor McGonagall believe she was ready for bed and leave her at the dormitory door.

In all honesty Hermione had been intending on finishing her Charms essay. She just wasn't 100% happy with it and knew she wouldn't be able to sleep until she was. She decided she would wait until McGonagall left and finish it then. Together they made their way through the common room and towards the stairs which lead to the dormitories. When they got to the door Hermione looked over her shoulder and cast a look at the older woman which let Minerva know that her help wasn't welcome.

"I'm sorry Hermione but this is necessary. You wouldn't be so annoyed about this if it wasn't true. You can't carry on as you are."

Hermione's shoulders slumped in distress and resignation. When was she going to get time to finish her essay?

Minerva was eager to see what Hermione's room was like, and was not disappointed. Books were stacked on every surface, piled on tables, chairs, windowsills and even the floor. The stacks cast long elegant shadows across the room. Hermione grimaced. She was quite sure that the amount of books she had stored up here wasn't going to help her case.

"Did you leave any books for the rest of the school?" Minerva's voice was half amused as she took in the sight. It worried her, but at the same time she chuckled at how ridiculous the sight before her was. There must have been hundreds of books in the room.

On their way through the common room Minerva had decided she would wait for Hermione to go to sleep whilst sitting in the chair she knew furnished every dormitory. She hadn't, however, betted on it already being occupied by a few dozen books. Hermione caught the older woman glancing at the chair and waved her wand. The books levitated two inches above the chair, moved diagonally across the room and landed on the floor.

"Sorry for the… mess." Hermione mumbled. She didn't sound very sorry, but Minerva didn't expect her to.

Minerva smiled and sat in the chair. "Would it be alright it I borrowed a book, to pass the time?" She understood the irony of the question. She guessed that most of the books were from the library, so she would be borrowing a borrowed book.

"Technically they're your books Headmistress." Hermione's voice still had a bitter edge that sounded unfamiliar coming from the usually sweetly mannered tongue. Minerva inwardly noted that had it been any student to use that tone with her then they'd have detention.

Minerva nodded, "indeed."

She picked up a paper back with a portrait of a woman on it that was on top of the pile nearest to her. Tilting the cover so it caught the light she read "Jane Eyre?" Hermione gave a knowing smile that melted Minerva's heart.

"Is this a… a muggle book?" Witches and Wizards didn't write much literature, not like the muggles did. It seemed to Minerva that half of the muggle population must be published authors of some drivel.

Hermione nodded, "my favourite. It's a classic."

Minerva was eager to forge a connection between her and Hermione, to have something other than school to talk about. This book was an opportunity that she couldn't miss.

"Then I'm sure I will find it riveting. Would I be able to borrow it for more than the night, so as to finish it?" She thought she was pushing her look, and the expression on Hermione's face confirmed this thought.

"One book Hermione, look at all of mine that sit in your room."

It was a sly blow, Minerva knew, the books were in the library to be borrowed after-all. And although she was Headmistress they didn't technically belong to her.

Hermione seemed weary of the conversation, her eyes settling with resignation. "I suppose it will be fine."

Minerva smiled at the crinkle on Hermione's brow as she gave in, a slight roll of her eyes. As much as Minerva missed the Hermione who usually made up the woman before her this one was certainly amusing. She opened the book and looked away from the other woman.

Hermione picked up her pyjamas and went into the ensuite bathroom that adjoined with bedroom come sitting-room. When she closed the door behind her the tears started. Why couldn't Minerva just leave her alone, why did she have to make her feel like this? What would her professor think when the nightmares came and she woke up screaming? She'd probably send her to a mental institution. Then she'd never finish her NEWTS. She'd be a failure, humiliated, and her parents would never be proud of her.

Minerva looked at her watch. Hermione had been in the bathroom ten minutes now, and although she knew how some girls could be she didn't have Hermione down for one of those vain teenagers who spent hours ogling at their reflection. She had to admit she was getting rather worried. She tiptoed over to the door and pressed her ear against the wood. She could hear gentle sobs coming from the other side. Minerva sighed and shook her head slightly before pushing open the door. Her eyes immediately fell onto Hermione, who was slumped against the wall with her legs up against her chest, rocking slowly to the rhythm of her sobs.

"Hermione…." She crouched down beside the woman and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close against her side.

"I'm so sorry professor... so sorry" Hermione's body quivered against Minerva's, the force of the emotion which shook her causing Minerva's own eyes to glisten with the threat of tears. Minerva couldn't believe just how broken Hermione was.

"Sshh dear. Don't be silly. Why don't we forgo your bedclothes and let you get some sleep, eh?" She hooked her arms around Hermione's waist and heaved her into a standing position, almost having to drag her through to the other room. Minerva peeled back the cover on the bed with one hand whilst using the other to support Hermione's weight. She shifted the girl until she was in front of her and rested her forearms on Hermione's quivering shoulders. She rested her palms on the side of Hermione's gaunt face.

"Look at me dear." Minerva's voice was barely a whisper as it caressed Hermione's ears. Without thought she raised her brown sorrowful eyes to green ones which were laced with worry.

"I am going to help you Hermione, I just need you to let me."

Hermione gave no response, simply continuing to stare into her professor's emerald eyes.

"Now get some sleep dear." She put a little pressure on Hermione's shoulders until she finally sat on the bed and rested her head on the pillow with a glazed look in her eyes. Minerva pulled the cover over her and gave her shoulder a squeeze before she made back towards the chair again. She was just thinking of how tired she herself was, and how long a night it had been when she heard a small voice invade her thoughts.

"Goodnight professor."

Minerva felt her heart warm, "goodnight Hermione."


	4. 4

Minerva was suddenly fully alert, a horrible scream filling her ears, making the breath catch in her chest. She had fallen asleep in the chair, and as she leapt out of it now the book she had been reading fell to the floor with a thud of finality. She looked towards the bed where the sound spewed from and saw Hermione, writhing as if under the cruciatus curse.

Minerva rushed over to her "Hermione…. Hermione wake up… it's just a dream" she pleaded, but Hermione's body continued to thrash, her face crinkled in an expression of relentless pain. Minerva knew she had to do something to stop the nightmare but she couldn't think coherently and for once in her life she didn't know what to do. Her eyes flickered around the room in desperation, as if expecting to see something which would solve the situation. But the only thing that Minerva's senses noticed were the screams which sounded from the young witch and the sight of her body twisting in agony. Not knowing what else to do Minerva instinctively sat on the bed and leant over Hermione's chest, putting her hands on either side of her face. As soon as their skin touched Hermione's body froze, her eyes snapping open. Their dark brown depths were swimming in anguish and the look of piercing fear tortured Minerva. She was glad that Hermione had woken from her nightmare, but she felt horrible as she looked into those eyes. This was why Hermione had been so angry about her staying whilst she slept, Minerva realised, and she had known this would happen. Minerva wished Hermione had confided in her earlier, but at least she knew now.

She gave Hermione a small smile, hoping it conveyed how glad she was that the episode had finished, that Hermione was all right again.

Then Hermione did something that shocked Minerva so much that she froze; her body and mind momentarily incapacitated.

Hermione lifted her head slightly and kissed her Professor.

Hermione didn't seem to notice how rigid Minerva had become, as she was so enthralled in the kiss. She didn't really know why she'd done it, but when she'd opened her eyes and seen those glistening emerald green ones boring into hers with such worry she felt an irrepressible urge to close the gap between them and press her own lips against the smooth ones of the older woman above her. Then the soft lips that pressed against hers were gone and Minerva was backing away quickly, her arms out in front of her to stop Hermione approaching. Hermione realised now what she'd done, and comprehension fell on her like an anvil. She had kissed her teacher, a much, much older woman whom would never want her. How had she been so stupid? Tears started to fill her eyes as she realised how she had ruined everything, how Professor McGonagall would never want to speak to her again.

Minerva didn't know what to do. There sat her brightest pupil, her heart heaved into her mouth as she quietly sobbed on the bed. She wanted to hold her, to tell her everything was going to be alright, but what she had done simply wasn't alright. Not at all. And if she pretended for even a second that it was then she wouldn't be doing the girl any favours. She had to know that what she'd done, the kiss, just wasn't acceptable, that it could not happen. But most of all she wanted to tell Hermione that she didn't blame her, because she knew how upset and confused she was, and she realised that when Hermione woke from her nightmare to her teacher sat on the edge of her bed caressing her cheeks she probably thought she was still asleep. No, it wasn't Hermione's fault, but she still had to know it was wrong. So Minerva left the room without giving Hermione another look, even though it broke her heart to walk away from the girl she had reduced to this broken, sobbing state, trying to block out the sound of Hermione's broken heart.


	5. 5

Hermione stood outside her transfiguration classroom, not daring to enter, not daring to see her Professor after what had occurred the night before. Even though guilt gripped her she couldn't escape the memory of the kiss. The way her Headmistress's lips had felt against hers, the heat which had consumed her like she was on fire. But it wasn't just shame that prevented her from entering the classroom; it was also the fear that she would be unable to control herself. She imagined herself storming straight up to McGonagall in front of the class and pinning her against the wall, closing the space between them until their bodies were flush against eachother, their lips crushing against the others in a kiss which buzzed with lust. But then she remembered the rejection she had received last night, the look of disgust which had engulfed her teacher's features and how she had quickly backed away and fled…

But she couldn't avoid her forever; she might as well leave Hogwarts now if she was going to do that. Quit her NEWTS and be forever known as the 'Golden Trio Drop-out'. Her parents would be so disappointed in her, and she would feel even more shame than she did now. No, she had to face up to what she had done and prove to Professor McGonagall that it had been a mistake, that they could pretend it hadn't happened.

She pushed open the door and sped into the room, her eyes averted from the front of the room where Minerva always stood. Usually Hermione sat on the desk closest to the front, no-one else liked to sit on the front row so she didn't have to talk to anyone. But today she made her way into the far corner of the room and sat at the desk which stood flush against the wall. She would barely be able to see the board from here, but that meant she wouldn't be able to see McGonagall either.

Minerva would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous about seeing Hermione today. She was terrified that she'd look into those brown eyes and see desire like she had last night. When the bushy haired girl entered the room Minerva shuffled towards the desk she always occupied. She wanted to let Hermione know that even though she had left her so distraught last night, that she didn't hate, or blame the girl. And that they only person to blame was herself, for getting them into such a situation. But she didn't have the chance, as Hermione headed straight into the opposite corner, her eyes never leaving the ancient carpet. Minerva knew that this was a bad sign. For the seven years she had taught Hermione, the girl had always sat in the same seat. Always. It would take a lot to change such a deeply engraved habit. Minerva cringed at how their relationship had gone so badly wrong in one night, just when she had believed they were making progress. And now that Hermione intended to avoid her, who would help her through the issues which consumed her, that were eating away at the Hermione that Minerva admired, even cared for. Minerva had to fix this, somehow.

Minerva allowed Hermione her solitude throughout the lesson. She had no intention of discussing what had happened last night in front of the whole class, it certainly wouldn't do either of them any favours. So she waited, always watching the girl but never acknowledging her any further. Minerva could wait, she was good at waiting.

The class began to pack away, a murmur running through the students as they made their way out of the room. Hermione was at the front of the queue forming at the door, having packed her books away in record time and practically sprinting to the exit.

"Stay behind Miss Granger, I need a word."

Hermione noticeably froze, and Minerva could tell that she was at a mental crossroad. Defy her teacher and flee from the room, or oblige with her order and suffer a probably excruciating conversation. Minerva saw her lean forward slightly and her mouth thinned reflexively.

"Don't make me keep my promise Miss Granger." Her voice was cold, icier than a winter breeze as the words sunk into Hermione's mind.

The councilor, Hermione thought. If she left now then Minerva would refer her to a councilor. She had no choice, and with a small sigh of resignation she turned towards her professor, a look of desperation and fury on her face. The expression of the conflicting emotions would have been funny in another context, the pout which formed on the pink lips so uncharacteristic, so unrealistic.

She moved aside and allowed the rest of the class to exit through the door she had been occupying. Her arms crossed and her head tilted slightly to the side.

When the classroom was empty except for her and Hermione, Minerva gave her eyes a rub and took her glasses off.

"You seriously thought that you could disobey me and leave this classroom?"

Minerva's voice was like a slap, and Hermione recoiled thus.

"I…I thought it would be best… I just…. Being around you… I don't think it's…"

Hermione didn't understand why Minerva was doing this. All Hermione wanted to do was make things easier by staying away from her, by avoiding her. But no, Minerva wouldn't let Hermione escape the pain of the shame which clung to her like a bad smell.

"I am your teacher and you will do as I tell you, regardless of what you think"

Hermione's mouth was hanging open slightly in a dumbfounded expression that was so uncharacteristic that Minerva barely recognised the young witch before her. Hermione's eyes flickered left and right, as if searching for the answer which eluded her.

"I… "She murmured to herself, "I don't understand. I don't understand any of this…"

Minerva understood that Hermione would be confused; she herself was quite confused after all that had occurred between them in such a small space of time. The lines had been severely blurred and that was dangerous ground, Minerva knew.

"I understand that this is difficult for you Miss Granger." Minerva tried to keep her voice Professional, reigning in her emotions as she spoke. She deferred to Hermione's last name to remind her of the teacher-pupil relationship which existed between them, attempting to reassert those smudged lines.

"No you don't. If you knew, then you wouldn't have prevented my departure at the end of the lesson. I thought I was helping, putting space between us. But you…All you have done for days is torture me, and yet you claim to 'understand'."

Hermione's voice was accusatory, it stung Minerva, whose facial expression now resembled the one Hermione had sported but a few moments ago. The younger witch was angered by the innocent expression on Minerva's face, that she seemed so upset by what Hermione had said.

She was perplexed. "Torture…?" Minerva breathed. "I was just trying to help, to make you…"

Minerva reached out towards the woman, trying to show that all she had intended to do was help her. That she cared for her, wanted the best for her. But Hermione turned away, wiping her eyes as she did so. She didn't want to shed anymore tears because of Minerva.

"To make me what Professor? To make me better?" Hermione said each of the last three words very slowly, distinctly, emphasizing each syllable. The world seemed to stand still around the pair as she said them, and the meaning seemed to twist from the good willed intentions, until they became an attack.

"No-one," she took a deep breath and turned back to the frozen woman behind her, "can make me better." The voice which spoke was that of a stranger's to Minerva's ears, the hatred the oozed from the word making the hairs on her skin stand on end.

Minerva couldn't move, couldn't speak. Her eyes were fixed on Hermione's, which were filled with agony and unshed tears. All she could think about was the way Hermione had looked at her, the voice the woman had spoken to her with. Spite had laced the words like poison, and Minerva could feel it flowing through her veins, burning her. Especially in her heart, which gave great laborious beats which hurt her chest from the effort. Hermione gave her one last piercing glance before moving to the doorframe and slowly pushing the wood open to reveal the corridor.

"So stop trying." She pleaded.


	6. Chapter 6

Minerva stood in her classroom for a long time, not really seeing the scene before her. Instead she saw only the chocolate eyes which swam with anguish. Had she really made things worse for Hermione?

"Yes. I have." She said the words out loud, admitting to the world that she had been wrong.

Indeed, Hermione hadn't been coping well before Minerva had intervened, but she certainly hadn't been the wreck Minerva had witnessed these last few days. Barely a moment had passed between them that Hermione had not been crying, or in some other way emotionally broken. Her eyes always seemed to carry that tortured look that Minerva realised she herself had inflicted on the young woman.

Hermione had managed to bury her depression, to pretend that she wasn't suffering, and Minerva now saw that maybe that was the best Hermione would ever get. The young girl had managed to continue with her life as normally as she could, proof of which was the length of time her true feelings has remained undiscovered. But Minerva had disrupted the still pool of Hermione's past, and now the water turned in great ferocious waves that threatened to engulf the young Gryffindor. To drown her.

But worse still than this realization was the way it made Minerva feel. Her pulse throbbed painfully slowly, without the passion and enthusiasm which usually swam through her. She was a monster. She had ripped her student away from the only comfort she had found, all because Minerva, in all her arrogance, believed she could fix her. That it was her right. But now Minerva realised the truth of the situation. It had not been her place to intervene, and the accuracy of this presided in the last plea Hermione had given her.

"No-one can make me better… so stop trying."

Hermione was the wise one of the two; she knew that Minerva couldn't help her. But Minerva had seen this as stubbornness, shame, and she had been wrong. About so much.

Then there was the question of what she should do next. She had stood at this metaphorical crossroads once before, and chosen wrongly. This time, she decided, it would be different. She would make the right choice, for Hermione.

Minerva didn't visit the hospital wing very often, so Madam Pomfrey was surprised when her friend came through the door and into the room. She quite forgot that she was in the middle of treating her student and stood up, looking towards the woman in glistening emerald robes.

Minerva looked awful, fatigue and defeat obvious in the way she stood, her shoulders hunched slightly, her eyes drooping. They didn't sparkle like they usually did, instead they were dull and lifeless, which saddened Poppy.

"Minerva… what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Poppy assumed that Minerva was ill. It was the only explanation she could muster from the evidence before her.

Minerva cast Poppy a glare, and then tilted her head towards the student sat on the bed next to where Poppy stood. It wasn't prudent for staff to be referred to by their first name in the presence of students, and this was always adhered to by Professor McGonagall.

Poppy winced and gave her friend an apologetic smile.

"I am fine Madam Pomfrey, so you can stop the worrying. It is not myself that I seek your assistance for. I wonder if we can have a word… alone." Minerva's voice was strained, as though she doubted whatever she was about to do. But her eyes, although dull, held a determined resolution that Poppy would never question.

"Of course Professor McGonagall, we can go into my office. Don't touch that whilst I'm gone Sarah, I will know!"

The student, Sarah, gave a look of disappointment that caused a small smile on Minerva's face. First years, she thought, amused.

As soon as the door was closed behind them Poppy rounded on her friend, who was also her boss.

"What is this about Minerva? You seem…. Out of sorts."

Poppy looked very worried, creases streaking her forehead. She didn't look as worried, or nervous, as Minerva though, who was chewing her lip.

"There is a student in my house who needs help Poppy. Professional help. Can you arrange this, for someone to come and see her?"

Poppy sighed, "Yes, or course. I've had quite a few this year requiring similar things. War does this to children. I'm surprised you've sought my help though Minerva, I'd have thought you would want to deal with this yourself."

This was indeed very uncharacteristic of Minerva, who usually liked to deal with all of the problems within Gryffindor house herself. For Minerva to be seeking a councilor Poppy realised it must be very serious.

"I tried to deal with it myself Poppy, and I made it exponentially worse for her. I should never have intervened."

Poppy felt sorry for her friend, knowing that her intentions would certainly have been the best for the student. Minerva loved helping her cubs through any problem, and felt great shame at falling at this particular hurdle.

At this moment Poppy's curiosity took over and before she could stop herself she had asked the question she had been trying to hold in.

"Who is it Minerva?"

The two witches held the other's gaze for a moment, and Poppy felt a great grief pulse through the connection before Minerva's eyes slid to the floor.

"It's Hermione."

Poppy's eyes widened slightly in shock. Yes, Hermione had been through much, but Poppy had always thought the only female in the golden trio had remained unshaken by the war. She always just seemed to get on with things, to focus on the task at hand. But she remembered when she, Harry and Ron had disappeared during the war, how worried Minerva had been. No-one except those three knew what happened whilst they were away. Anything could have occurred.

As she said Hermione's name Minerva had felt her eyes become wet, her soul squirming under the weight of the betrayal. She had shared Hermione's secret, even after promising that she wouldn't. But she simply didn't have a choice, she couldn't help Hermione, but someone else might be able to.

"Oh Minerva…" Poppy whispered before pulling Minerva into a comforting embrace.

The two stood like this for a while, until Minerva's sobs had subsided.

"You should get back to your patient Poppy, I have marking to do."

Poppy nodded and gave her friend a last small squeeze before opening the door for her.

Minerva was glad to be alone; she didn't feel like company tonight. With that in mind she had gone down to the Kitchen after seeing Poppy and requested her dinner be brought to her office. The plate, untouched, sat at the end of her desk, behind the pile of work she had been busying herself with.

Then the door on the other end of the room flew open, slamming against the wall it was attached to. Minerva reached for her wand immediately, visions of an invasion flashing through her mind. Her office was badly lit, and the figure that stood before her cast a long shadow between themselves and Minerva as the light from the corridor outside flooded into the room with the visitor. Minerva couldn't make out the identity of the woman who stood before her, seeming to clutch a letter in her hand, outstretched in a clenched fist.

"You got me a fucking councilor?"


	7. Chapter 7

Minerva had never seen Hermione so mutinous. Her mouth was a thin line that rivaled that of Minerva's; her eyes were alive with fury, and even her hair seemed to crackle from the anger that pulsed through her.

Minerva flinched away from the monster she had created, horrified by it, but also fascinated. This was a new side to the quiet, politely mannered girl who was extremely bright and always well behaved. It showed just how much potential she had, and just how far she had come within herself over the last few years. Before the war Minerva was sure that Hermione would have been incapable of conjuring this confidence, this ability to stand up to her professor. This side of Hermione was terrifying, but it was also spectacular, and it reminded Minerva of herself.

"If you swear at me again Miss Granger then I will hex you. Now be quiet and listen."

Minerva's voice was stern and teacher-like as she addressed Hermione. Regardless of what the young woman was 'going through'; she wouldn't be spoken to like that.

"No." Hermione's voice sounded like that of a spoilt child arguing the decision of their parent.

"Hex me professor" she dared "you might as well. I would rather be dead that go to the councilor you intend to force on me."

Minerva cringed at how easily Hermione disregarded her own life, how easy she found it to offer herself up.

"Don't be ridiculous Miss Granger, the councilor will help you. Stop acting like a child."

Minerva's voice was cold and satirical as she cast aside the comment Hermione had made, making the immatureness of the words obvious.

Hermione briskly withdrew her wand and pointed it at Minerva's desk, which immediately burst into flames, incinerating the piles of paper-work stacked on the desk. The temperature of the room didn't change, but the red glow gave the room an eerie look that reminded Minerva of hell. Right now hell sounded about right… But Minerva didn't move, not even flinching away from the cracking flames.

"ATTACK ME!" Hermione screamed with a pang of desperation, swishing her wand again, shattering all the windows in the office. A great clattering noise enveloped the scene as shards of glass fell to the floor. The light from the fire which consumed the desk reflected off the tiny shards with a blinding glare.

"What. Will. It. Take?" She roared. Each breath she heaved was a laborious pant as she fought the emotion inside her. She waved her wand with each word, bangs erupting as objects in the office continued to be smashed, incinerated and exploded.

But Minerva stood, still as a statue among the wreckage, with a look of disappointment and pity on her face as she watched the young woman release her feelings on her possessions.

Then the noise stopped and Hermione hung her head in exhaustion and surrender, her wand arm falling to her side with resignation. Her breaths were deep and heavy as she gripped the hem of her emotions, feeling tears well in her eyes as her fingers slid slowly from the edge of her control.

"Are you finished?" Minerva inquired quietly.

Hermione didn't look up; her only movement was the continued elaborate rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

Minerva raised her own wand and the fire which engulfed the desk disappeared. With a wave the glass flew back into place in the window and the piles of debris which littered the floor began to resemble the objects they were until a few minutes ago. Minerva's eyes never left Hermione as she did all this.

When she had finished, and lowered her wand, Minerva adjusted her glasses nervously.

"Now," she began "in answer to your original question, yes I did indeed arrange for you to see a councilor. I think we can both agree that this, whatever this is, is beyond me. I cannot help you through this Hermione, you need a professional."

Hermione still didn't look up, instead studying the carpet with a detached intensity.

"But I want you to know how sorry I am for not realizing this sooner. In my arrogance I caused you added pain, which in inexcusable. I thought I could handle this, but I was wrong. I was an arrogant fool. It is my duty to care for my students, and I failed to do that."

Hermione didn't respond to Minerva's speech, not even giving a sign that she had listened to what her teacher had said. Inside she was a fighting a battle which kept her fixed like a statue, like a film on pause. The anger she had just experienced had set her emotions on fire like they'd been doused with petrol. With the anger had come the lust. She was furious with Minerva, but that seemed only to intensify her desire to touch her professor, and her attraction burned through her veins like poison. But the lust didn't stop a voice in her head telling her how impossible it was to dream of touching that milky skin under the emerald robes. That it was wrong to crave her lips, and relish the memory of their kiss. She was trapped, simply focusing on her own breathing and hoping the world, and her problems, would disappear.

Hermione thought that Minerva was waiting for her to respond, until she heard a quiet sniffling sound in the room and looked up in confusion.

Hermione's confusion intensified when she realised her professor was crying, that she had reduced the woman to tears. She wanted to rush over and hold her, to tell her everything would be okay like Minerva had for her only a few nights ago. But above this want was a smoldering need for Hermione to bring their lips together, to feel Minerva's breath hot and desperate in her mouth. She wanted to run her fingers through the dark hair which sat constrained on the top of her teacher's head. And it was this need that prevented her from moving an inch. She knew she wouldn't be able to stop at a hug, that the proximity would overwhelm her and she would lose control to her desires.

So instead she simply pleaded.

"Please don't cry… I can't stand here and watch you cry."

The tenderness of the voice brought McGonagall out from here reverie. Yet another side to this most complicated woman. This desperate plea was a thousand worlds from the contemptuous curse which she had opened the conversation with. The extreme shift in mood showed to Minerva just how damaged Hermione was, just how lost and distraught the life of the brain of the golden trio had become.

"Then leave Hermione. I deserve much worse from you."

Minerva's words quivered and her voice sounded suddenly aged.

"I don't want to leave. I just don't want you to cry, not because of me."

Hermione needed Minerva to know that she wanted to stay, that she wasn't really angry with her. So she approached Minerva slowly, raising her hand to the older woman's neck, which she caressed lovingly.

"I shouldn't touch you like this…" she murmured, "its not good for me."

Minerva was confused by what Hermione uttered; stumped by the conflict in her voice as she spoke about the distance between them.

"It makes it hard…" She whispered, her voice breaking like a fragile piece of glass.

"It makes what hard?" Minerva's voice was equally as emotional.

"Everything," Hermione sobbed "It makes everything that much harder when I'm away from you. And it's so hard to pull away, to let go of you. But most of all, it becomes harder to hide from my feelings about you."

"No Hermione," Minerva said her voice much stronger now. She saw where this conversation was going and tried to pull away from Hermione in response. But Hermione's arms were wrapped around her like a vice, and she couldn't move an inch. "You have to stop, you just can't say that. You can't feel like that, it's wrong." In an attempt to get away Minerva put her hands on Hermione's waist, and was about to push. But as she lifted her fingers to the thin waist they brushed Hermione's breasts and both women froze, their eyes snapping to the others. Hermione's chocolate eyes smoldered with lust, and Minerva was deeply afraid that hers reciprocated that emotion. She had to admit that she felt aroused, especially as the quick graze had caused Hermione's nipples to harden, becoming slightly visible through her school shirt. Her school shirt. Minerva's clasped onto this concept, not allowing herself to let it go. Hermione was a school girl; she could not feel attracted to her. And slowly, as she focused on the school uniform, setting her homework, teaching her a new spell. Finally she felt her pulse slow and the blush which had crept up her neck recede.

And then she pushed, as hard as she could, and Hermione was whole feet away from her, nearly knocked off her feet by the force Minerva had exerted. The brown orbs filled with disappointment.

"I'm sorry Hermione, so sorry." Minerva whispered, relieved to have some distance between them. Hermione's distinct scent wasn't as overpowering at this distance.

"Don't say you're sorry Professor; just admit that you feel it too. I can see it in your eyes."

Hermione's voice was strong and confident; she was obviously trying to sound like a woman, rather than the school girl that trickled through Minerva's memory.

"You are a student Hermione, a school girl…" Minerva reasoned in a weak voice, her own strength was diluted by the blazing look Hermione gave her.

"I am 18 years of age now Professor. I am no longer a child. Don't treat me like one!"

Hermione's voice was accusatory, and the hardness, and the truth, of the words struck Minerva like a physical blow.

"You may not be a child any more, but you are still many decades my junior!"

It was Hermione that truth made a fool of this time. The young Gryffindor could not argue that the age difference was significant.

"Age doesn't matter to me. Witches and wizards can live hundreds of years, what are a few decades in the wizarding world?"

Hermione's voice was beginning to lose the careful maturity and was now streaked with a tone of pleading. She was desperate for Minerva to understand, almost begging her to listen to what she considered reason.

"Enough." Minerva had resumed her most 'teacher-ish' voice, and it stopped Hermione in her tracks with her mouth hanging open.

"I will not argue about this, it is absurd. You are ill Hermione, that is why you feel like this. It's not your fault, you just aren't in control of your feelings right now; but the councilor will help you, and then you'll see, you'll understand."

She raked in a deep breath through her quivering wind pipe. Doubt riddled her thoughts. What if Hermione's feelings weren't due to her mental state? She didn't even want to think about it. And then there were her own feelings, which she could no longer hide from. How could she deny the moan she had almost released when she had felt Hermione's shapely breast against her hand, or the fact that her mind wandered to the kiss they had shared every few minutes or so. All she wanted to do at this very moment was to kiss Hermione senseless, removing her articles of clothing slowly, ravishing each newly naked patch of skin as she went. Take her to her private chambers through the secret portrait in this very room and take her to the bed…

She could do it now, she knew Hermione would consent; she would simply have to ask. She imagined running her fingers up and down Hermione's bare back, sliding her tongue against her plump upper to the lip, seeking entrance to her mouth, engaging in a tango with her tongue.

Then Hermione shifted her weight and the movement caused her shadow to move too, which caught Minerva's attention. She didn't even dare raise her eyes to look at the young woman, not trusting herself to keep her thoughts clean.

"Go back to Gryffindor Tower Miss Granger. Now."

Minerva's voice was weak, a distant echo of the domineering one she usually used when ordering a student. If Hermione would just leave, then she would be able to think clearly again. But instead every thought was distorted by the smell of lavender which radiated from Hermione. It overrode every rational thought that protested quietly from within her skull, batted down by a demon consumed by lust for the young witch. The young witch she simply wanted to devour.

There was a sudden thud from next to where Hermione stood, a small pile drawing Minerva's attention away from her mental images. A white blouse. Hermione's white blouse. And that meant…

Minerva's eyes wandered up Hermione's form, hesitating at the top of her skirt as they noticed bare flesh above. But she couldn't stop them from roaming upwards. The skin of her stomach was smooth, and Minerva imagined that it would be soft and irresistible to touch. Her fingers itched, desperate to touch it and find out exactly how it would feel to run them over the expanse of silky skin.

Then the flesh stopped and Minerva's eyes met another garment, although it was one not nearly as innocent as the school blouse which had been cast off. Black lace encompassed Hermione breasts. The same breasts Minerva had already touched once by accident, and it was this memory which proved to be a most flammable fuel, her lust uncontrollable like fiend fire.

She needed to touch that skin, she felt as though she would die if she didn't. And it was this need that allowed her to cross the room and pull Hermione towards her, crushing their bodies together so she could feel every curve of Hermione's figure. Her fingers raked over Hermione's back, her desperate hands moving quickly, trying to touch every inch of flesh.

And she knew in that second, as she breathed the name of her student with a voice laced with desire, that she would be unable to stop now that she had touched her skin. Hermione Granger's skin…


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione moaned in both disbelief and pleasure. She was stunned. She had spent so long trying to convince Professor McGonagall that there was something between them and failed; only to discover that the key to Minerva's heart was the removal of clothing. She had been nervous as she unbuttoned her blouse, and remembered how her hands had trembled. But it was something else that made her tremble now.

The two women's hips were pressed against eachother, the faces moulded into one at the mouth, breaking apart every few minutes for a quick breath before their lips met again.

Hermione's hands searched for the collar of Minerva's robes, feeling down to buttons below her chin, which she hastily undid. She pushed off the robes and rested her hands on the newly bare shoulders, pulling out of the kiss by a few inches so she could get a good look at her lover. Wow. Minerva's slim frame betrayed the strict old woman she appeared to be to her students. Her skin was smooth and supple, clinging to her curves snugly. Hermione bit into the side of her lip and sighed at the sight of the body she would shortly enjoy. She moved her fingers to the clasp on Minerva bra but her teacher shook her head, pulling Hermione arms away and placing them at her sides.

"You first my love. I cannot wait." Minerva breathed. She ran her fingers up Hermione's arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind her. Then she wrapped her arms around Hermione and her fingers grasped the fabric clasp of Hermione's bra, hesitating and looking into the chocolate eyes for permission. Hermione eyed her eagerly, begging her to hurry, which Minerva complied with. Another thud, quieter than the one Hermione's shirt had made, followed.

Hermione's breasts bounced slightly as they were released, but they were quickly steadied by Minerva hands, which cupped them gently.

"Oh god Hermione. You… are… so… beautiful." She bounced the mounds in her hands slightly and moved her thumbs to Hermione's pink nipples, grazing them lightly. The responded immediately and hardened, making Hermione whimper with pleasure. Then Minerva let go and Hermione froze, suddenly worried that she had changed her mind. But then Minerva's fingers laced Hermione's and she gave her a tug, pulling her towards a portrait on the wall, to which she whispered "tabby". The portrait swung open to reveal Minerva's private quarters. Hermione didn't have chance to take in the surroundings as they moved through the rooms quickly, until a big bed came into view. The two women's bodies melted into one, arms snaking around eachother, making their way closer to the bed.

The back of Hermione's legs banged into the bed and she collapsed onto the cream sheets, looking up at Minerva with a grin on her face. Minerva stood at the end of the bed, her eyes taking in the topless beauty sprawled on her bed, her mouth mirroring Hermione's with a cheeky grin. She pounced on top of Hermione, her mouth finding Hermione's supple breasts, licking and suckling at them. Hermione's back arched as she grunted and moaned.

"Minerva…"

Minerva smiled at how her name sounded on Hermione's lips. She had never heard Hermione say it before, but she liked it. She kissed the mouth which had just uttered her name, leaving Hermione's words a muffled mumble.

Hermione took the opportunity and wrapped her arms around Minerva pulling them into a roll, so Hermione was on top. Minerva made to protest but Hermione put a slender finger on her lips, which silenced Minerva immediately. Hermione traced her finger down Minerva's chin, trailing down her neck, her cleavage, down her stomach and to the hem of her underwear. She placed her palm flat on Minerva groin, already able to feel a slight wetness through her pants.

Minerva shivered slightly at Hermione's touch, her eyes locked on the younger witch's hand. Hermione hooked an index finger under each side of Minerva's underwear and pulled them down agonizingly slowly. She whipped them off when they reached Minerva's knees and held them up with a raised eyebrow, slowly bringing the strip of fabric which had been pressed against Minerva's sex to her nose. She took a deep breath.

"Mmmm Minerva… you smell… great"

Minerva went red with embarrassment, unable to believe that Hermione had just smelt her underwear.

Hermione leant forward and kissed each of Minerva's red cheeks, putting her lips next to her similarly red ear.

"Don't be embarrassed love"

As she said this Hermione put her hand on Minerva's bare sex, rubbing at her hot core, putting pressure on Minerva's clit with her thumb. Minerva squirmed as a jolt of what felt like electric, pulsed through her.

Hermione's hand was gentle but firm against her, and slowly she got more adventurous, single finger finally sliding between Minerva's wet folds. Minerva cried out in pleasure, all thought of Hermione being her student now eradicated from her mind, Hermione was only her lover now. Gradually Hermione increased the speed she pumped into Minerva's sex and added a second finger. Minerva made rhythmic moans which increased in tempo to correspond with the speed in which Hermione's hand darted in and out of her. Finally Hermione felt the muscles in Minerva's sex contract against her fingers and a liquid started leaking down Hermione's wrist.

Both women stayed still for a moment, simply staring at eachother. Something had changed between them in that moment, that moment of utter bliss.

Minerva was the first to move, reaching towards Hermione's face and resting her palm against the flushed cheek, which she caressed. Then her hand fell to Hermione shoulder, and she pushed Hermione back, who had sat at Minerva's knees, legs out in front of her. Hermione allowed herself to fall backwards and Minerva soon scrambled on top. Her hand was only centimeters away from Hermione's sex when she hesitated.

"Is this your… first time?"

Hermione's eyes clouded over with shame and she glanced away from Minerva.

"Yes…" she whispered.

"Maybe we shouldn't…" Minerva said, more to herself than Hermione. What she was doing was already wrong, but to actually steal Hermione's innocence made her feel even worse. It reminded Minerva of how young and inexperienced Hermione really was.

"No" Hermione begged, her fingers wrapping around Minerva's wrist, which had been pulling away.

"It doesn't matter. I want it to be you" she implored, slightly desperately.

Minerva's eyes scanned Hermione's for any trace of doubt, but they seemed resolute, determined.

When Minerva still seemed unsure Hermione sat up, her fingers still clasped onto Minerva's wrist, and leant her head on Minerva's bare shoulder.

"Please don't leave me."

"Never" replied Minerva. She lifted Hermione's chin with her free hand until their eyes met again and she leaned in slowly so their lips touched ever so lightly. Minerva then shifted her weight so that Hermione was flat on the bed again, and whilst still kissing, she rubbed Hermione's wet opening.

"Tell me" she said between kisses, "if I hurt you".

Hermione nodded absently, but Minerva froze and pulled back slightly.

"You must tell me Hermione."

"I will."

Satisfied, Minerva leant against Hermione's lean body, deepening the kiss and teasing Hermione's core. Very slowly she pushed her index finger inside Hermione, watching her face for signs of discomfort. Hermione wasn't in pain, it just felt…. Strange.

Minerva nodded slightly and moved faster, her thumb out-stretched so it grazed Hermione's clitoris with every thrust. Hermione's wrapped her arms around Minerva, holding her very close, and her nails dug into the skin on Minerva's back slightly. Hermione's eyes were closed and her mouth was slightly open as her whole body was consumed with pleasure. Minerva smiled at the state she had reduced Hermione too. The pair of them could be attacked and Minerva doubted that Hermione would notice.

Suddenly Hermione's eyes snapped open and her voice sounded ragged

"Minerva… I think… I think I'm going to… to come"

And then she screamed, her arms around Minerva becoming vice like.


	9. Chapter 9

Minerva felt only warmth and happiness. She was awake, but her eyes were shut, and she allowed her other senses to roam her surroundings.

She could hear Hermione's steady pulse as the young woman slept silently in her arms.

She could smell Hermione's hair, which exuded a delicate scent of lavender. The smell made Minerva sigh, and she knew that she would forever associate that scent with Hermione, her lover.

They were both naked, with their legs tangled together in a position that shouldn't have been comfortable, and yet Minerva had never felt so much so in her life. 24 hours ago, as she lay in this very bed, she would never have imagined who would also be in it the following morning. Indeed everything that had transpired between them last night still seemed like a dream to Minerva. But everything felt real, certainly the way they had made love last night had felt real. The screams, the touches, the way it had felt. Minerva couldn't remember ever having a dream as vivid as that, as powerful as that, and so she believed that it had not been imagined. But that in itself created problems; because if this was real, then Hermione really was her student, and she really was 60 years her junior. But Minerva ignored the voice in her head that shouted these truths, because for now, she refused to allow anything to spoil the happiness which filled her.

Hermione turned over so they were facing eachother, her lips pressing against Minerva's neck as she did so. Minerva smiled as memories of kisses they had shared last night flooded through her mind. She reached for the side of Hermione's face and tilted her head slightly, leaning in and pressing her own lips against Hermione's. Hermione moaned into the kiss and her eyes fluttered open sleepily.

"Morning sleepy" Minerva said, rather amused at how Hermione had awoken.

"That's sneaky you know, stealing kisses from a sleeping woman. I'll have to keep an eye on you Minerva" Hermione teased. In all truth it had been a rather pleasant way to wake from the sleeping world, to a kiss which made her heart hammer in her chest.

"Indeed you will my dear."

Hermione's eyes shifted around the room, "what time is it?" she asked, her voice slightly raspy.

"Seven." Minerva replied.

"Eugh" Hermione groaned, "Do we have to get up? Can't we just stay in bed all day?"

Minerva chuckled. Hermione would never have spent a school day in bed before this.

"And miss all of your lessons?" Minerva leant forward and rested the back of her hand on Hermione's forehead, "are you ill or something?"

Hermione stuck her tongue out.

"No, I am simply extremely happy."

"As am I."

Minerva kissed Hermione lightly on the lips and grabbed the edge of the cover, about to throw it off them when Hermione's arms wrapped around her and the pressure on Minerva's mouth increased.

Hermione rolled on top of Minerva and their lips parted, hers smarting a cheeky grin.

"I'm not done with you yet Minerva."


	10. Epilogue

Hermione and Minerva stood, hand in hand, outside the staffroom. Hermione looked terrified, her eyes boring into Minerva's, pleading her to change her mind. But Minerva was resolute. She couldn't wait any longer, Hermione graduated today and then she would no longer be her student. There would no longer be a shadow of shame cast across their love and she could finally show the emotions which rippled through her when she was at a close proximity to her love. She simply couldn't hide their relationship any more, she wanted desperately for everyone to know. So she gave Hermione what she hoped was a look of reassurance and put her hand on the door handle, hoping the next few minutes would play out as they had in her head all morning.

Hermione understood that Minerva wanted the truth of their relationship to come out, but she just wasn't sure if she was ready yet. She was only graduating today, what would a few days, or a few weeks matter? It all seemed so rushed and urgent, the pressure of their revelation worrying Hermione. But Minerva was determined to reveal them today, on a day when Hermione already felt nervous to the point of nausea. But then Minerva gave her that look, and all of her worries seemed to melt away, and she gave a little nod in response. However Minerva didn't see, as she was already opening the door.

Minerva made her way into the room first, still holding Hermione's hand, who stood slightly behind her.

The reactions of the staff would have been rather comical had they been on a TV show. The teachers looked up from what they were doing as they heard the door open, giving Minerva a smile of greeting. Then they noticed Hermione, their faces becoming confused, and then, slowly, their eyes dropped to the pair's interlinking fingers, and expressions among the witches and wizards began to vary. Many of them looked confused, but some had cottoned on. They were either horrified or elated.

No-one spoke, and the fragile silence was rather frightening. Minerva felt that she, as Headmistress, should make the first move.

"As some of you have already worked out. Myself and Hermione are a couple. All you need to know is that from today onwards we are in a relationship, please do not ask about us before today, because I cannot, will not, tell you. But I implore you to bear in mind that as of today, Hermione is not my student."

She glanced at Hermione, who had her eyes downcast at the floor. She had never seen her so worried, not even when they had spoken just before her NEWT exams. She wondered now if this was really for the best, suddenly remembering the effect immense stress had had on Hermione less than a year ago. What if the reactions of the wizarding world pushed her back into emotional decline? Minerva thought back to sunken skin, lifeless eyes and protruding bones. Wincing slightly Minerva's grip on Hermione's hand tightened subconsciously, showing her automatic protection of her lover. Minerva liked to think she had saved Hermione, that she had been the light which had guided the young woman back to health, she couldn't bear to turn that lamp off for her own selfish reasons. She glanced behind her shoulder and into comforting chocolate eyes. Eyes that had captured her heart and engulfed it in a whir of passionate flames. Within them was love, and trust. Indeed Hermione still looked anxious, but through the fear shone hope. It stretched out to Minerva and flooded through the room, a blinding force which Minerva couldn't tear her emerald eyes away from.

When Minerva finally looked back at her staff all eyes were fixed on those two beside the door. Their exchange had been observed carefully and acceptance shone from many of the faces which had previously shown dismay. The atmosphere was slightly awkward as no-one spoke. Finally Professor Flitwick gave a small squeaky cough.

"Well, I'd like to offer my congratulations to you both. I've known you a long time Minerva, and I can honestly say no-one deserves happiness more than you. As for you Miss" - he froze- "Hermione," he corrected with a slight nod of the head, "I'd like to say that although you may not have age behind you, no-one had ever shone a candle to Minerva's candescence until you first walked through the entrance hall doors. You may not be equal in years but your feats are very similar in other ways. The best of luck to you both."

When Hermione looked to Minerva's face she saw tears shining in her dark green eyes. She ran her thumb over the back of Minerva's hand and received an affectionate squeeze in return.

They stayed few more minutes, with most of the staff offering similar congratulations, but Hermione was relieved when Minerva announced they must really leave.

They made their way back down the corridor with their fingers still entwined and they both relished silently in the small public show of affection. Even such a simple as holding hands in public had escaped them for so long that it seemed bizarrely significant to the pair. They received a few strange looks and whispers seemed to echo behind them as they passed portrait after portrait until they made it back to Hermione's room.

When they entered they both slumped onto the bed and into each other's arms.

"See, that wasn't so difficult, was it." Minerva whispered hungrily into Hermione's ear, the older woman's breath on her skin causing her to shiver slightly.

"I don't know Minerva," Hermione replied in an equally low voice, "I think you have a lot of making up to do to me." Hermione pouted slightly and Minerva laughed at how out of place the spoilt expression was on Hermione's features.

"Making up?" Minerva growled, "I'd much rather make love".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally on ff.net but after discovering ao3 and becoming increasingly disillusioned with ff.net I've starting moving my fics over here. Hope you like it, kudos and comments are appreciated. :)
> 
> Regular disclaimers apply, nothing belongs to me.


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